The Proposal
by milkshakebubblebath
Summary: After dating for several years, Ron finally decides to pop the question to Hermione. But will everything go as smoothly as expected? I only own the plot - honest! milkshake x
1. Chapter 1: Slugs á la Hermione

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 1**

Taking a deep breath, Ron stood before Harry and Ginny and said, "I'm going to ask Hermione to marry me." After saying this, he blushed and quickly sat down. His legs felt like jelly.

"Ron, that's amazing, I knew it was coming!" squealed Ginny, jumping to her feet and hugging Ron.

"Yeah, that's fantastic mate! You two are great together. She'd be a fool to say no."

Harry also rose to his feet (but in a more calm, dignified way) and clapped Ron on the back, before pulling him into a brief hug. After letting go, they all sat down and Ginny began the next conversation. Planning the wedding.

"So, have you got a ring yet?" asked Ginny, leaning forward across the coffee table.

"Uh, no, not-not yet," said Ron, pulling at his collar. He was clearly slightly uncomfortable, particularly after Ginny's reaction. He hadn't expected _that_. "Actually, I was… kind of hoping that you and Luna would… would come with me… to help me choose it." Ron gave his trademark lop-sided grin that Hermione had fallen in love with.

Harry thought that a banshee had entered the room, before realising that his newlywed wife beside him was squealing at the top of her voice.

"Oh, Merlin!" cried Ginny. "Of course we'll come! Thank you Ron, thank you so much! I'll owl Luna now! Wow, there is so much to do! We're going to have to keep Hermione out of the way…" She now turned beseechingly to her husband who sat on the sofa looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but there. With wide, puppy-dog eyes, she fluttered her eyelashes at Harry. "Please…?"

"Please what?" Harry was confused as he had switched his ears off at Ginny's speech—I mean, come on, what human could put up with that pitch for long?

Exasperatedly, Ginny said, "Would you please keep Hermione busy whilst Ron, Luna and I go and get Hermione's engagement ring?"

"Uh, sure, sure." Leaning around Ginny, he looked at Ron. "When and where are you planning to go?"

"There's only one place he _can _go to buy an engagement ring, silly!" cut in Ginny. "Pilliwickle's Jewellers, of course! Now, I think we should go tomorrow afternoon—I'll sort Luna out, don't worry. Ron, meet us at Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. We'll have coffee, and then we'll go onto Pilliwickle's."

Behind Ginny, Harry was sniggering as he watched Ron's face go from uncomfortable to downright terrified at his little sister's lecture.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, Harry Potter!" Ginny swung around and bore down on him. "I know for a fact that Hermione has a free afternoon, looking at your work timetable. Now, as head of the Auror Department, it's your job to make some excuse to keep her at work and away from Diagon Alley. Got it?"

Now it was Harry's turn to look terrified. He stood up and started pleading with Ginny. "Ginny? Do you remember what happened last time I tried to keep Hermione at work when it wasn't her shift? Do you? It took _three hours _to lift that slug-vomiting curse—" he threw a sympathetic glance at Ron before continuing "—and our living room did _not _look pretty after that, did it?" He raised an eyebrow at her as if to dare her to make excuses.

Ginny blanched for a second remembering the nightmare that was their slug-infested living room. "We had to call the Magical Beast Removal Squad…" she murmured, before shaking her head as if to come back to reality and resumed her glare at Harry as if to reprimand him for making excuses. "No, no more excuses, Harry Potter. You are my husband and you agreed to _honour and obey_, I believe, when you married me."

"So did—" Harry tried to butt in, but Ginny ploughed on.

"_So_, you _will _do as I say or I can make life very unpleasant for you. Got it?" Ginny was now (albeit on tiptoe) towering above Harry, and with one poke in his chest, he fell back onto the sofa.

"Yes, dear," he whispered.

Ginny resumed her beaming smile and said, "Good. That settles it, then. _You _will occupy Hermione—" pointing at Harry, "whilst _we_—" indicating at Ron, "will get the ring. Oh, tomorrow's going to be so much fun!" Ginny stared dreamily into space for a moment before bouncing off, her flaming hair bouncing around her shoulders as she exited the room.

"Phew!" Both Harry and Ron sighed and sank back in their chairs.

Ron chuckled. "You married her," he said, looking at Harry.

Harry chuckled too. "Yeah, well what are you marrying into? _Slugs-á-la-Hermione_, anyone?"


	2. Chapter 2: A Floating Stack of Papers

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 2**

"Thanks for the coffee, Dean! That is _just _what I needed right now," sighed Hermione, as she inhaled the aroma coming from the cup.

Dean laughed. "Busy day at work, then?"

Hermione looked at him. "You have _no _idea," she said, and took a sip.

Suddenly, a memo whizzed through the open door and hit Dean on the back of the head. Rubbing the sore patch as he opened the letter, he said, "Stupid interns. They just send these things off without any thought, don't think of where it's going to land... oh no. Not again! I thought we'd dealt with this once and for all!" He looked at Hermione with a worried glance.

"What's up?"

"Ah, you, um, might not want to know..."

"Go on, tell me—you work in the Magical Beast Department, right? It can't be that bad."

"Actually, you're probably the _last _person I'd mention this to," said a very uncomfortable Dean.

"Just tell me."

"It's your funeral," he muttered. "Okay, so, someone's been selling these, kind of... drug... type, things, to house-elves," he said slowly, looking carefully at Hermione's reaction.

He backed away towards the door, sensing that she was going to explode at any moment. "What?" There it was.

"It's not that serious!" he cried. "They just, well, it makes... funny things, kind of, happen... to them."

"Like what?" She stood to her meagre height, hands on her hips, as she glared pointedly at him.

"Well, some of them sprout rhubarb from their ears, others start doing back flips, you know, just cheap tricks. Well, we had this problem a few months ago, and we thought we'd stopped it, but, evidently _not_." Dean's voice had lowered to a bare whisper by the time he'd finished speaking.

Hermione was now flaming. Her hair was crackling with energy in its frazzled state and if looks could kill, Dean would have been a pile of ash right now.

"I knew it," said Dean quickly, backing out of the door. "I knew I shouldn't have told you, I warned you... I'll fix it!" he said, and began to sprint down the corridor as Hermione began to advance towards the stricken Head of Department. As soon as he was gone, she slammed the door to vent her feelings. Sitting back down she reached for her coffee and drained it all in one go. Then she shook herself and got back to work.

Hermione glanced at her watch—and then at the big clock on the wall, just to make sure it was accurate. _Come on__,_she thought, _just__another 5 minutes and then I am OUT OF HERE! _Although she had loved her essay-writing at Hogwarts, Auror paperwork was entirely different—that is, it was boring. Hermione decided that, with five minutes to go, it was time to dawdle.

She was just about to pack her things away when there was a knock on the door. Frowning slightly, and with another agitated glance at the clock, Hermione called, "Come in."

The door opened, and she gasped. Because, absurd as it may sound, she couldn't see anyone. No, that was because all she _could_ see was a floating stack of papers! Hermione couldn't believe it.

"Those … those aren't for me, are they, Harry?" she asked tentatively (she knew it was Harry because no one could miss the mess that was his hair).

"Afraid so, Hermione," said Harry apologetically as he placed the pile on her desk.

"But … but … I can't!" exploded Hermione. "I have to go and meet Ron, and … and … I have things to pick up from Diagon Alley! You can't expect me to remain here for the whole afternoon, can you?"

Harry looked at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact. "Didn't you get an owl? Ron says he can't make the date, sorry. He says he'll make it up to you later. Diagon Alley can wait until this evening, and, as to whether I can expect you to remain here for the afternoon, the answer is yes, because I am your boss and unfortunately these papers came in at the last minute. You can have a whole day off tomorrow, I've fixed it with Dean. So, I'm sorry, Hermione, but you'll just have to stick it out. See you later."

With that rather longer-than-intended speech, Harry walked out of the door, shutting it gently behind him. He stood outside and leant against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief and wiping his forehead, thankful that he got away so freely. With a quick glance at Hermione's office door, he scuttled away down the corridor, not wanting to be around for the explosion that was sure to come.

Back in the office, Hermione just stared at the pile. But she wasn't really focused on the task ahead of her. She was more troubled by the fact that Ron hadn't bothered to owl her to say he couldn't come.

_Maybe it got lost? _said the little voice in her head. But Hermione pushed that away. Owls never get lost. _Unless it's Errol_. Hermione nodded slightly. _True. But, Ron doesn't use Errol. He has his own owl now_. Frowning, and absent-mindedly picking up the first paper from the desk, she spent the rest of the afternoon pondering Ron and the missing excuse. She would undoubtedly be spending the rest of her free time looking into the house-elf matter, whether Dean liked it or not.


	3. Chapter 3: Weasel Duo and Dream Girl

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 3**

Ron stumbled slightly, his head a whirling mess, as he landed in Diagon Alley in the bright sunlight. _Wow, Apparition takes a lot out of you_, he thought. He'd only gained his Apparition License a year ago, but still preferred Floo-powder or… dare he say it… _a portkey_.

"Ron. _Ron! _Over here!" A familiar voice called over the heads of the shoppers. It was Ginny, and she was standing, as arranged, outside the ice-cream parlour. Ron ambled over and took a seat whilst Ginny went off to order him a coffee.

"Oh, hello, Ron," said a misty voice. Luna lowered the upside-down Quibbler she was reading to look at Ron. "You look well."

"Err, thanks, yeah, I'm good, thanks." Ron nodded as the Quibbler returned to its original position: blocking Luna's face. Ron always felt slightly awkward around Luna; he never knew what she was going to say or do next, and then how to react when she _did_ say or do something.

Luckily, Ginny returned soon with a steaming mug of coffee; placing it down in front of Ron, she returned to her seat and picked up her bag. Out of it, she took several brochures, picked one out, and pushed it towards her brother.

"What's this?" he asked, picking it up to flick through it.

"It's a catalogue for engagement rings," Ginny said brightly.

"So… what are the others for?" Ron craned his neck to see the titles as Ginny hastily stuffed the others back into her bag.

"Oh, nothing… nothing… they're just… umm… nothing!" said Ginny, but she was looking flustered and Ron could have sworn he saw the phrase 'Wedding Dresses and outf…' before they disappeared into Ginny's bag.

Still looking suspiciously at Ginny, he resumed his perusal of the catalogue. After maybe half an hour of flicking pages and sipping numerous cups of coffee, he saw it. He knew it was the one. It had to be.

It was silver, as was traditional. It had three diamonds set into it, the one in the middle being slightly larger than the other two. It was plain, but beautiful. And perfect. He pointed it out to Ginny and (once again) she squealed in delight.

"Oh, Ron, it's perfect! She could never turn you down with a ring like that!" She grabbed the catalogue from his hands and showed it to Luna.

"It's lovely," she said, in that same, dream-like voice. She smiled at Ron who nodded.

"Thanks. Now, how about we go and buy it?"

Ginny almost knocked over her chair in her rush to get going. "Come on!" she called to her companions impatiently. Luna carefully placed her magazine in her bag before putting her coat on and making her way down the street with Ron and Ginny.

Pilliwickle's Jewellers was an old, battered looking shop right at the end of Diagon Alley. The dark green paint was peeling, and the sign looked about ready to drop off its hinges, but the swirly golden lettering revealing the shop's name was still as shiny as ever. A small bell tinkled as the trio made their way to the counter, Ron still gripping the brochure with his finger marking the right page.

All three were silent as they stood at the counter waiting. It was a place that naturally commanded silence; almost as if picking a ring were a revered activity.

In the hush, Ron looked at the rings on display and almost instantly spotted the one he wanted. In the flesh, (so to speak) it looked even better, its shine brighter and the sparkles… sparklier.

Whilst Ron was gazing at the rings, Ginny dragged Luna over to another jewellery counter where they displayed the most beautiful necklaces and bracelets. In hushed whispers they discussed and pointed out the ones they liked.

Ron had now finished ring-gazing, and was now looking around the dusty old shop. It was very richly furnished, with thick, velvet curtains and plush armchairs for waiting in, though he could tell that they weren't used very often. However, the windows were clean and polished, as were the cases which contained the expensive items. The sun streamed through and illuminated most of the shop in an almost ethereal way. It made the hairs on the back of Ron's neck stand up.

Ginny and Luna had returned to the counter, and were just about to speak up and call for the owner to come forward, when the shop bell tinkled again. A voice sounded behind the three, and they turned somewhat grudgingly to face the speaker.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Weasel Duo and Dream Girl. Surely you can't afford this kind of stuff?"

Who else could it have been but Draco Malfoy? And hanging off his arm was none other than Astoria Greengrass.

"Actually, Malfoy, it's Potter now, if you don't mind," said Ginny as civilly as she could muster.

Draco waved his hand in dismissal.

Ron wasn't surprised that they were here. Malfoy's engagement had been splashed all over the Daily Prophet, as well as many other more popular wizarding publications.

Draco casually sauntered over to the ring display and after a sweeping glance as to what was on offer, he looked up and sneered at the other three.

"These aren't worth a second glance, not with _this _lot looking at them," he drawled to Astoria. "Come, I'd rather my galleons be spent at … a more _worthwhile_ establishment." And with that last sentence, the couple swept out of the shop.

"I never liked that chap," came a withered voice from behind them. Ginny, Luna and Ron spun around to see a wizened old man standing behind them. If he didn't know any better, Ron would say that he had a bit of dwarf blood in him, judging by his size. But before he had time to speak, the man continued.

"That Lucius Malfoy's boy? Disgrace to the wizarding world, that family. I wonder whether the young miss on his arm knows what she's getting into." He shook his head slightly before asking, "So, who's the lucky girl? Or guy?" he added quickly, registering Ginny and Luna standing beside Ron.

Ginny stepped in quickly and explained.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Yes, yes, I recall her very clearly now. She was the young woman that accompanied your husband, Mrs Potter, when he came to buy your engagement ring." Ginny blushed slightly—her own proposal and wedding were still very clear in her mind.

"Now, young man," said Mr Pilliwickle (for that's who it was), "have you found one already? Or do you require assistance?"

"No need for assistance, sir, I've found one." Ron brandished the catalogue at Mr Pilliwickle and pointed to the ring.

"Ah, fantastic choice, sir, she won't be able to resist you with the offer of _that _one."

"Actually, I was hoping she'd pick me for more than my choice of ring," Ron said heatedly. He was starting to get a little fed-up of people telling him Hermione would only marry him because of the jewellery he offered.

"Of course, sir, of course," said Mr Pilliwickle hurriedly, before setting about opening the glass case and selecting the ring. When it was sitting on the counter, he asked, "Do you have the young lady's ring size?"

Ron turned to Ginny and Luna looking slightly crestfallen. "I _completely_ forgot about getting her ring size!"

Mr Pilliwickle cut in. "Well, you can always buy this one, and then, when you propose, if the ring doesn't fit, you can come back with it and I will size the ring, free of charge."

Ron frowned. "Thank you, Mr Pilliwickle, but I want everything to be perfect. Do you mind if I reserve this now, and come back when I know her size? Thank you."

As all three left the shop, another problem hit Ron squarely in the face. "Oh, man, how am I meant to find out her ring size? If I just ask for it straight up, she'll guess. What do I do?"

"Hmm." Ginny pondered this for a few moments, and then grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't worry Ron, I have a plan. You'll know her ring size by tomorrow evening, or my name isn't Ginevra Potter."


	4. Chapter 4: Time To Write To Hermione

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 4**

Somewhere deep in the Ministry of Magic, a clock chimed 7 o' clock. A very tired Hermione made her way through the golden corridors to the Apparating Section.

If anyone had stopped to notice her, they would have seen slightly puffy, red-rimmed eyes and a slight smudge of mascara on one cheek. But, despite the Ministry still being busy with night shifts and such, Hermione remained the invisible girl—and she liked it that way. Then, she didn't have to explain anything. All she wanted now was to curl up on the sofa at home and watch _The Railway Children_ for the umpteenth time. It always got her at the bit at the end when the steam cleared and Roberta cried, "Daddy! My daddy!"

She reached the Apparating bit of the Ministry, and with a quick glance at the golden statue in the Atrium, disappeared.

...

Ron sat down back at The Burrow and sighed. He surveyed the room in which he sat; the once spotless living room was now carpeted with bags. He glared slightly at Ginny who was now busily showing brand new items of clothing to Fleur, who was staying over in a weekend visit with Bill. She was cooing over them, and saying, "You will look beautiful in zat!"

"_I just need to pick up a few things, Ron_," Ron mimicked under his breath. He didn't feel like being on the receiving end of one of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hexes. Again.

With an enormous amount of effort, he heaved his tired, aching body out of the squashy armchair, and headed to his room. He decided it was time to write to Hermione.

...

Back at home, Hermione had cleaned herself up, showered and gotten into her favourite pyjamas. Topping it all off with her snugly dressing gown, she sat on the sofa with a box of tissues and a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, which happened to be chocolate fudge brownie— her favourite— and settled down to watch _The Railway Children_. After about half an hour, there came a _tap! tap! _on the window pane. Hermione leapt up from the sofa like a ninja and ran to draw the curtains. Recognising Ron's owl, Gwion, she let her in.

Ruffling her feathers slightly, Gwion stepped through the open window and fluttered over to the coffee table, where she deposited the letter that was in her beak. Hermione raced up to her bedroom for treats, before feeding one to Gwion and sending her back into the night.

Hermione sat down and with a shaking hand, opened the letter.

_Dear Hermione, _

_I'm sorry about our date, but something came up and I couldn't get out of it. I understand that Harry broke the news to you; I'm really sorry, I wanted to write and explain, but I just had too much to do—you know what the Ministry's like these days. _

(Here, Hermione could imagine Ron grinning awkwardly at her. She gave a small smile and continued to read.)

_So, in light of how sorry I am, I would like to invite you as my +1 to the Annual Malfoy Ball__.__ I was going to leave it as a surprise, but I decided it might cheer you up to know now. It's next Sunday evening at 7:30 pm. I'll meet you there._

_All my love,_

_Ron xxxxxx_

The letter ended here and Hermione smiled as she counted the kisses. There were six; one for each year they had been going out.

Hermione felt a lot better now. _How could I have been so silly? I overreacted_, she silently chided herself. But one thing left her puzzled; why wouldn't Ron be picking her up? Whenever they had gone to these big functions, they had always met somewhere beforehand and gone together. So what was different about this one?

She quickly re-read the letter, and with a jolt realised that it was Thursday already and she had nothing to wear. She raced upstairs to find parchment and ink, mentally smacking herself that she had sent Gwion off without a reply. Jotting down briefly her forgiveness, thanks, and her response that yes, she would be there, she strolled over to the open cage in which slept her own owl, Corc, and sent him off to The Burrow with her message.

Then she sat back down in the living room, pressed play, and prepared to cry.

...

_Beep! Beep! Beep! _Hermione groaned. Her one day off— and she had forgotten to switch her alarm off. Sleepily she reached for her wand, pointed it at where she thought her alarm clock might be, and muttered a spell. She heard a bang, and sat up with a satisfied smile on her face. But it soon disappeared, to be replaced with a look of shock. She had just blasted a hole in the wall, and was now grinning sheepishly at her not-so-happy neighbours.

Hermione quickly Obliviated the couple and repaired the wall, before giving a nasty look to the guilty alarm clock and heading downstairs for breakfast.

As she was eating, there came another _tap! _on the kitchen window and she glanced up to see that it was Corc with her post. Opening the window, she let him inside and sat back down to read her mail.

As well as the Daily Prophet, there was only one other letter. It was from Ginny. Fumbling with the parchment, Hermione opened it and began to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_How are you? Harry and I, we're doing pretty well, though I don't suppose you care too much for Harry's well-being at the moment- I heard about yesterday- bad luck. Anyway, considering you have the whole day off today, I was wondering whether you wanted to come to Diagon Alley with me? We can catch up as well as shop for our dresses for the Malfoy Ball (fingers crossed Ron's already told you- if not, I am SO sorry I ruined the surprise). Anyway, respond to this ASAP. If you're good to go, I'll meet you at 10:30am in the Leaky Cauldron._

_Love,_

_Ginny xx_

_P.S. Harry says he is sorry times one million and hopes you don't want to curse him into oblivion. _

Hermione smiled as she tucked the letter away. Writing a quick reply saying she would be there, she ambled up the stairs to take a shower and get dressed. Muggle jeans and t-shirt would do it today, she decided, and she dried her hair with a charm she had learnt.

Now, you have to know that, although it wasn't as bushy and untamed as her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione's hair was far from perfect. So, as normal, she tamed it with another charm she had learnt and added a liberal amount of Merlin's Magical Hair Mousse Formula for good measure. Taking a step back from the mirror, she did one last check, Apparated to London and stepped into the Leaky Cauldron.

She soon spotted the redhead amongst the crowds of witches, wizards and hags that sat around. Upon reaching the table, the two friends greeted each other with a hug, and then stepped out into the courtyard and through the brick wall to Diagon Alley.

Their first stop was at Flourish and Blotts, as Hermione had run out of things to read _again_. After browsing through the fiction section, Hermione pulled out two books: _Opulus's Choice, _a novel about a wizard called Opulus and his hectic life, and _The Magic of Aqua, _which wasa romance novel.

After paying for the books, Ginny and Hermione carried on wandering down the street, stopping next at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

They both wandered over to the counter and asked where the evening gowns were.

"Upstairs, ladies," replied the regal Madam Malkin.

Both girls eagerly climbed the stairs and walked through into the appropriate section of the shop. And gasped.

The gowns were gorgeous! Silks, satins, velvets- every fabric imaginable in every colour available had been woven into the most beautiful gowns and dresses. Being the only two in that part of the shop, they ran about squealing like excited children, pausing only to call the other one over to see what they'd found.

Hermione and Ginny spent nearly the entire afternoon in that shop, trying on dresses, showing them off, weighing up pros and cons about each one, before agonisingly settling on a dress each.

Ginny looked beautiful in an emerald-green ball gown that set off her hair- it had a corset-style top that was decorated with sequins. But even Madam Malkin had to agree that Hermione looked the most stunning.

She was dressed to impress in a forget-me-not blue gown and wrap, decorated delicately with beautiful darker-blue stitching comprised of flowers and swirls.

Both girls couldn't stop smiling as they handed over the Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and left the shop, crossed over to Florean Fortescue's and ordered chocolate sundaes.

Giggling, they chattered about anything and everything, including laughing at the fact that Kingsley Shacklebolt had practically forced Draco into making him promise he would host an Annual Ball for all Purebloods and Half-bloods affected during the war.

Unfortunately, they hadn't noticed how loud they were being, because they suddenly felt a rush of air go past them, and, looking up, saw none other than Astoria Greengrass stalk haughtily past their table, stopping to shoot them both a nasty glare before carrying on towards The Leaky Cauldron.

Both girls stifled their giggles in their napkins until they had calmed down.

"Whoops!" said Ginny, although she didn't look a bit sorry.

"I hope she doesn't tell Malfoy," said Hermione, who was clearly quite concerned now that her head was clear.

"Oh, come on! I mean, what's he going to do? Likelihood is, he's not going to care at all. Now come on and finish your sundae, we have jewellery shopping to do!"

Unfortunately, Ginny could not have been more wrong. Not about the jewellery shopping, that bit was true, but about Malfoy not caring at all...


	5. Chapter 5: HEAPS

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 5**

Astoria Greengrass strode haughtily down Diagon Alley, her new 24-carat gold, diamond-encrusted engagement ring sparkling on her finger. Most people ducked out of her way and gave her a relatively wide berth out of fear and respect—not only did she _come _from a powerful, rich, Pureblood family, but she was marrying into one too.

Did Astoria care? Not really. If anything, she was used to it and soaked in the feelings of power it gave her.

On reaching the end of the street, she vanished into thin air, re-materialising at Malfoy Manor.

...

Ginny and Hermione had finished their sundaes and were now wending their way to Pilliwickle's Jewellers. (Ginny had insisted). The incident with Astoria was now rapidly disappearing from their minds, to be replaced with the thought of the bling they were going to buy.

Inwardly, Ginny was grinning. Her plan was about to begin…

...

The large, shiny, black front doors of Malfoy Manor swung open and Astoria was cordially greeted by a house-elf.

"Good afternoon, mistress," squeaked Pipsy.

"Good afternoon," replied Astoria disdainfully.

Unfortunately for Purebloods (particularly those set in their ways about how to treat house-elves, like the Malfoys), ever since Kingsley Shacklebolt's rise to power as Minister of Magic, he had decided to take the wizarding public's concerns more seriously.

Enter Hermione Granger with S.P.E.W.!

Kingsley said that although he couldn't force house-elves to stop working, he would set up H.E.A.P.S (House-Elves Anonymous Protection Society), where house-elves could complain if mistreated by their owners.

If Pureblood families were found to be mistreating their servants, they could be heavily fined, which is the (rather long) explanation behind Astoria's forced politeness to Pipsy.

Suddenly, there came a _clip! clop! clip! clop! _of high heels, and Narcissa Malfoy gracefully entered the entrance hall.

"Astoria! What a lovely surprise!" she exclaimed, coming forward to hug her future daughter-in-law.

"It's lovely to see you too, Narcissa," replied Astoria, giving a genuine smile to the graceful lady standing before her. "Is Draco at home?"

Narcissa stood back, thought for a moment and said, rather slowly, "Yes, yes, he's in the… drawing room, I think. And if he's not there, he'll be in the lounge, reading, probably. Call Pipsy if you need anything."

Astoria nodded curtly to the elf as it gave a slight curtsy and pattered off down to the kitchens.

"Thank you, Narcissa." Then the two women departed with the elder ascending the staircase, and the younger walking slowly down the hall to the drawing room.

...

Draco looked up from his desk at the sound of female voices in the hall. Peering through the gap in the door he saw his fiancée talking to his mother. Slightly surprised, but happy none-the-less to see her, he sat back down and carried on writing.

Sure enough, no more than a minute later, Astoria walked into the room.

Both smiled at the other before Draco stood up and said, "Astoria! What a surprise! What are you doing here?"

He went to greet her with a peck on the cheek before guiding her to the elegant chaise-longue.

Draco seated himself on a comfortable chair opposite and they began their conversation.

"Draco, dear, we have _got _to do something about the 'Golden Trio'!" began Astoria, rather fiercely.

He was quite taken aback at this outburst; normally she was quite quiet and reserved. His shock was apparent in his question. "Darling, as much as I'd like to smash Potter and Weasel's face in, it's not like I can do anything about it, is there? And, besides the obvious, why?"

"Because, Draco, they are laughing at you behind your back! They need taking down a peg or two—especially that Granger girl and her red-headed, blood traitor friend. I heard them outside Fortescue's laughing about how annoyed you were when you found out about having to host an annual ball every year! They even had the gall to speculate about our relationship and whether it was genuine! Can you believe it?"

Astoria's face was now bright red, and her fists were clenched. Draco had even backed away slightly; he didn't know if he liked this new Astoria or not.

After taking a few moments to process this information, he said, "Astoria, you need to calm down. This isn't really a big deal—"

"Big deal? _Big deal_?" She was seething, she hadn't been this worked up about anything since the Daily Prophet got hold of her and Draco's relationship and splashed it over the front cover.

Draco let her rant a little bit whilst he summoned a house-elf and asked for the bottle of Calming Potion they kept in the potions cupboard. It was back within moments; Draco forced it into her hands and watched as she drank it (she was in such a state that she was quite oblivious to the fact that she was drinking something, let alone to register what it actually was).

Within about 10 seconds it produced the desired effect—Astoria's anger-tinged skin returned to her ivory tone and her limbs visibly relaxed. When she was suitably subdued, Draco leant forward, took her hands in his, and looked into her eyes.

"Astoria, you have to understand, Potter, Weasley and Granger were my enemies for seven years. It's been six years since the war, and I have only just managed to rebuild what we lost—you have definitely been a part of the process," he said, giving her a small smile. "Sometimes we have to just grin and bear things, and this is one of those times. As much as I would love—and I would _love_—to see Golden Boy and his friends fall from grace, I can't. Potter and I have come to a mutual, ah, acquaintance-ship. In other words, we only talk when necessary, which thankfully, is hardly ever. Now, being a Malfoy comes with consequences—not many, but a few—and this is one of them. Having to put up with gossip and rumours is part of everyday life; you just have to learn not to listen. You _know _our love is real, and yes, I was quite shocked and irritated to hear what Shacklebolt had to say, but I put up with it. And I'm sorry, but if you're going to marry me, you're going to have to put up with it too. OK?"

Partly due to the effects of the potion, but mostly due to the fact that she knew Draco was right, Astoria nodded sulkily.

"Fine." She threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to wallow in self-pity while Granger and the She-Weasel get away scot-free then." Astoria made to stand up and leave but Draco kept hold of her hands. A smirk was back on his face.

"Now, now, I said that I made a mutual agreement with _Potter_—Granger and the Weaselette on the other hand…"

Astoria matched the smirk on her fiancé's face, and together they both began to plot the… _finer_ points of the Annual Malfoy Ball.


	6. Chapter 6: Ron! SHUT UP!

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 6**

Ron was pacing up and down the living room at The Burrow. Harry sat in a chair, calmly reading the Daily Prophet, and Luna was adjusting her brand new earrings that, to Ron and Harry's surprise, were made of dried chunks of pineapple given to her by her latest boyfriend, Rufus.

Ron sighed for about the millionth time, and Harry finally looked up.

"Ron, will you give it a rest! Hermione said she'd come to the Ball with you, and secondly—you know Ginny; when she says she's going to do something and then uses her _full name _to swear it, you _know _she'll do it."

"Yeah, but what if Hermione guesses? What if Ginny isn't subtle enough? What if Hermione just twigs—you know her brain and logic, what if—"

"Ron—and I'm saying this as kindly as I can—SHUT UP!" Harry stood and threw the Prophet on the chair he had just been using. With two quick strides he had reached Ron, gripped him by the shoulders and shook him.

Ron stumbled back a bit before collapsing in a chair with his head in his hands.

"You're right, Harry—I'm sorry. I'm just so worried that she'll say no, or that my proposal won't go right, or that—"

"Ron, I get it, you're nervous. And so was I, when I was going to propose to Ginny. I know what it feels like—the waiting, the agonising over what to do and say—but do you know what Hermione said to me when I was acting just as crazed as you?"

Ron shook his head but a small smile appeared on his lips as he thought of what his girlfriend might have had in mind.

"She told me to shut up, shook me and then dragged me over to play Exploding Snap for four hours to take my mind off things. Heck, she was that obsessed with distracting me that she even suggested we go play a one-on-one game of Quidditch—and you _know _what she's like around brooms."

Ron laughed, feeling some of his tension disappear as he imagined Harry being shook by the ever calm, dignified, and practical Hermione.

"Anyway, if Ginny wants to get something stealthily, she will. Also, Hermione has been dating you for six years. Do you _really _think she would stay with you that long and then not accept your offer of marriage?"

Ron flushed. "No, I guess you're right. Let's go play Exploding Snap."

"That's the spirit, Ron!" called Luna from her chair. "But watch out for Bargleworts. They tend to inhabit card decks, and they can be very bad luck if you find one!"

"Bad luck's the last thing on my mind at the moment, Luna, but thanks for the warning!"

Unfortunately for Ron, bad luck wasn't very far off, and it was in the form of a scheming couple going by the name of Malfoy…

...

The small bell tinkled again as Hermione and Ginny entered the jewellery shop. The last time Hermione had been there was to help pick out Harry's engagement ring. She smiled faintly at the memory.

Ginny ushered her bushy-haired friend over to the slightly less expensive jewellery—in the dusty glass cabinets lay brooches, hair slides and clips, rings, necklaces, earrings and bracelets, all in different colours and styles.

Together they picked out necklaces and earrings before calling Mr Pilliwickle to take them out of the case to purchase them.

And here's where Ginny kick-started her plan into action…

She had deliberately left the rings till last.

"Hermione…" she began slowly.

"Yes?"

"I've been debating about getting a ring—that one there, for example," Ginny continued, pointing at one which matched her dress. "What do you think?"

"I think it's lovely," Hermione replied, completely unaware of anything suspicious.

"What about you? Why don't you get one?"

"Oh… well, I suppose, if I found a really lovely one, it wouldn't hurt."

"Okay, great! Oh, this one would look fantastic!" Ginny called to Mr Pilliwickle, who promptly took out the ring she was pointing to.

Now, throughout their ice cream eating at Fortesque's, Ginny had studied Hermione's hands—not to the point of positively staring at them—just so she got a rough idea of their size, and she was glad she did. Ginny had deliberately picked out a ring she knew would be far too small, and she grinned inwardly when Hermione struggled to get it on her finger.

"Oh, is that too small?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, it's a bit… too… tight," muttered Hermione.

Mr Pilliwickle had caught on by this time and enquired Hermione's ring size so that he might get her the next one up.

This caught her off-guard.

"Oh, do you know what, I don't think I know," she replied, with a frown on her face.

"Well let me measure for you," said Mr Pilliwickle, and with a twinkle in his eye at Ginny, he pulled out a measuring tape that quickly measured each finger on both hands—rather like the one at Mr Ollivander's shop. Mr Pilliwickle jotted down each measurement and stored them away, but not before retrieving the correctly sized ring for Hermione.

It fitted like a dream, and Hermione was pleased with it and how it glinted in the light, so she and Ginny made their final purchases and exited the shop. As they were leaving however, Hermione missed the sly smiles exchanged between the red-haired customer and shop owner—not that it would have mattered. Hermione, famed for all her brains and wit was still none the wiser about the pleasant surprise that was to be sprung on her before the end of the week.


	7. Chapter 7: Guess Who

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 7**

Astoria Greengrass strode haughtily down Diagon Alley, her new, 24-carot gold, diamond-encrusted engagement ring sparkling on her finger. Most people ducked out of her way and gave her a relatively wide berth out of fear and respect- not only did she _come _from a powerful, rich, Pureblood family, but she was marrying into one too.

Did Astoria care? Not really. If anything, she was used to it and soaked in the feelings of power it gave her.

On reaching the end of the street, she vanished into thin air, re-materialising at Malfoy Manor.

...

Ginny and Hermione had finished their sundaes and were now wending their way to Pilliwickle's Jewellers (Ginny had insisted). The incidence with Astoria was now rapidly disappearing from their minds, to be replaced with the thought of the bling they were going to buy.

Inwardly, Ginny was grinning. Her plan was about to begin…

...

The large, shiny, black front doors of Malfoy Manor swung open and Astoria was greeted cordially by a house elf.

"Good afternoon, mistress," squeaked Pipsy.

"Good afternoon," replied Astoria disdainfully.

Unfortunately for Purebloods (particularly those set in their ways about how to treat house-elves- like the Malfoys), ever since Kingsley Shacklebolt's rise to power as Minister of Magic, he had decided to take the wizarding public's concerns more seriously.

Enter Hermione Granger with S.P.E.W.!

Kingsley said that although he couldn't force house-elves to stop working, he would set up H.E.A.P.S (House-Elves Anonymous Protection Society) where house-elves could complain if mistreated by their owners.

If Pureblood families were found to be mistreating their servants, they could be heavily fined, which is the (rather long) explanation behind Astoria's forced politeness to Pipsy.

Suddenly, there came a _clip! clop! clip! clop! _of high heels, and Narcissa Malfoy gracefully entered the entrance hall.

"Astoria! What a lovely surprise!" she exclaimed, coming forward to hug her future daughter-in-law.

"It's lovely to see you too, Narcissa," replied Astoria, giving a genuine smile to the graceful lady standing before her. "Is Draco at home?"

Narcissa stood back, thought for a moment and said, rather slowly, "Yes, yes, he's in the… drawing room, I think. And if he's not there, he'll be in the lounge, reading, probably. Call Pipsy if you need anything."

Astoria nodded curtly to the elf, who gave a slight curtsy and pattered off down to the kitchens.

"Thank you, Narcissa." Then the two women departed; the elder ascending the staircase, and the younger walking slowly down the hall to the drawing room.

...

Draco looked up from his desk at the sound of female voices in the hall. Peering through the gap in the door, he saw his fiancée talking to his mother. Slightly surprised, but happy none-the-less to see her, he sat back down and carried on writing.

Sure enough, no more than a minute later, Astoria walked into the room.

Both smiled at the other before Draco stood up and said, "Astoria! What a surprise! What are you doing here?"

He went to greet her with a peck on the cheek before guiding her to the elegant chaise-long.

Draco seated himself on a comfortable chair opposite and they began their conversation.

"Draco, dear, we have _got _to do something about the 'Golden Trio'!" began Astoria, rather fiercely.

Draco was quite taken aback at this outburst; normally she was quite quiet and reserved.

"Darling, as much as I'd like to smash Potter and Weasel's face in, it's not like I can do anything about it, is there? And, besides the obvious, why?"

"Because, Draco, they are laughing at you behind your back! They need taking down a peg or two. Especially that Granger girl and her red-head, blood traitor friend. I heard them outside Fortesque's, laughing about how annoyed you were when you found out about having to host an annual ball every year, and they were even speculating about our relationship and whether it was genuine! Can you believe it?"

Astoria's face was now bright red, and her fists were clenched. Draco had even backed away slightly; he didn't know if he liked this new Astoria or not.

After taking a few moments to process this information, he said, "Astoria, you need to calm down. This isn't really a big deal-"

"Big deal? _Big deal_?" She was seething, she hadn't been this worked up about anything since the Daily Prophet had gotten hold of her and Draco's relationship and splashed it all over the front cover.

Draco let her rant a little bit whilst he summoned a house-elf and asked for the bottle of Calming Potion they kept in the potions cupboard. It was back within moments; Draco forced it into her hands and watched as she drank it (she was in such a state that she was quite oblivious to the fact that she was drinking something, let alone to register what it actually was).

Within about 10 seconds it produced the desired effect; Astoria returned to her ivory skin tone and her fists unclenched. When she was suitably subdued, Draco leant forward, took her hands in his and looked into her eyes.

"Astoria- Potter, Weasley and Granger were my enemies for seven years. It is now six years after the war, and I have only just managed to rebuild what we lost- you have definitely been part of the process," he said, giving her a small smile. "Sometimes we have to just grin and bear things, and this is one of those times. As much as I would love- and I would _love_- to see Golden Boy and his friends fall from grace, I can't. Potter and I have come to a mutual, ah, acquaintance-ship. In other words, we only talk when necessary, which, thankfully, is hardly ever. Now being a Malfoy comes with consequences- not many, but a few, and this is one of them. Having to put up with gossip and rumours is part of everyday life; you just have to learn not to listen- you _know _our love is real, and yes, I was quite shocked and irritated to hear what Shacklebolt had to say, but I put up with it. And I'm sorry, but if you're going to marry me, you're going to have to put up with it too. Okay?"

Partly due to the effects of the potion, but mostly due to the fact that she knew Draco was right, Astoria nodded sulkily.

"Fine. Fine. I guess I shall just have to wallow in my own self pity and watch Granger and the She-Weasel get away scot-free then." Astoria made to stand up and leave, but Draco kept hold of her hands. A smirk was back on his face.

"Now, now, I said that I made a mutual agreement with _Potter_- Granger and the Weaselette, on the other hand…"

Astoria matched the smirk on her fiancé's face, and together they both started to plot the… _finer_ points of the Annual Malfoy Ball…

...

Ron was pacing up and down the living room at The Burrow. Harry sat in a chair, calmly reading the Daily Prophet, and Luna was adjusting her brand new earrings that to Ron and Harry's surprise were made of dry chunks of pineapple, given to her by her latest boyfriend, Rufus.

Ron sighed for about the millionth time, and Harry finally looked up.

"Ron, will you give it a rest! Hermione said she'd come to the Ball with you, and two- you know Ginny; when she says she's going to do something and then uses her _full name _to swear it, you _know _she'll do it."

"Yeah, but what if Hermione guesses? What if Ginny isn't subtle enough; what if Hermione just twigs- you know her brain and logic, what if-"

"Ron- SHUT UP!" Harry stood up and threw the Prophet on the chair he had just been using. With two quick strides he had reached Ron, gripped him by the shoulders and shook him.

Ron stumbled back a bit before collapsing in a chair with his head in his hands.

"You're right, Harry- I'm sorry. I'm just so worried that she'll say no, or that my proposal won't go right, or that-"

"Ron, I get it. You're nervous. And so was I, when I was going to propose to Ginny. I know what it feels like; the waiting, the agonising over what to do and say, and do you know what Hermione said to me when I was being like you?"

Ron shook his head, but a small smile appeared on his lips as he thought of what his girlfriend might have had in mind.

"She told me to shut up, shook me and then dragged me over to play Exploding Snap for four hours to take my mind off things. Heck, she was that obsessed with distracting me that she even suggested we go play a one-on-one game of Quidditch- and you _know _what she's like around brooms."

Ron laughed, feeling some of the tension disappearing as he imagined Harry being shook by the ever calm, dignified and practical Hermione.

"Anyway, if Ginny wants to get something stealthily, she will. Secondly, Hermione has been dating you for six years. Do you _really _think she would stay with you that long and then not accept your offer of marriage?"

Ron flushed; "No, I guess you're right. Let's go play Exploding Snap."

"That's the spirit, Ron!" called Luna from her chair. "But watch out for Bargleworts; they tend to inhabit card decks, and they can be very bad luck if you find one!"

"Bad luck's the last thing on my mind at the moment, Luna, but thanks for the warning!"

Unfortunately for Ron, bad luck wasn't very far off, and it was in the form of a scheming couple going by the name of Malfoy…

...

The small bell tinkled again as Hermione and Ginny entered the jewellery shop. The last time Hermione had been there was when she had helped to pick out Harry's engagement ring; she smiled faintly at the memory.

Ginny ushered her bushy-haired friend over to the slightly less expensive jewellery- in the dusty glass cabinets lay brooches, hair slides and clips, rings, necklaces, earrings and bracelets, all in different colours and styles.

Together they picked out necklaces and earrings, before calling Mr Pilliwickle to take them out of the case to purchase them.

And here's where Ginny kick-started her plan into action…

She had deliberately left the rings till last.

"Hermione…" she began slowly.

"Yes?"

"I've been debating about getting a ring- that one there, for example," Ginny continued, pointing at one which matched her dress. "What do you think?"

"I think it's lovely," Hermione replied, completely unaware of anything suspicious.

"What about you? Why don't you get one?"

"Oh… well, I suppose, if I found a really lovely one, it wouldn't hurt."

"OK, great! Oh my gosh, this one would look fantastic!" Ginny called to Mr Pilliwickle, who promptly took out the ring she was pointing to.

Now, throughout their ice cream eating at Fortesque's, Ginny had studied Hermione's hands- not to the point of positively staring at them- but just so she got a rough idea of their size, and she was glad she did. Ginny had deliberately picked out a ring she knew would be far too small, and she grinned inwardly when Hermione struggled to get it on her finger.

"Oh, is that too small?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah- it's a bit… too… tight," grunted Hermione.

Mr Pilliwickle had caught on by this time and enquired Hermione's ring size so that he might get her the next one up.

This caught her off-guard.

"Oh- do you know what, I don't think I know," she replied, with a frown on her face.

"Well let me measure for you," said Mr Pilliwickle, and with a twinkle in his eye at Ginny, he pulled out a measuring tape that quickly measured each finger on both hands-rather like the one at Mr Ollivander's shop. Mr Pilliwickle jotted down each measurement and stored them away, but not before retrieving the correct sized ring for Hermione.

It fitted like a dream, and Hermione was pleased with it and how it glinted in the light, so she and Ginny made their final purchases and exited the shop. As they were leaving, however, Hermione missed the sly smiles exchanged between the red-haired customer and shop owner. Not that it would have mattered; Hermione, famed for all her brains and wit, was still none the wiser about the pleasant surprise that was to be sprung on her before the end of the week.

**Review, please :) *flutters eyelashes***

**Draco — ****the Voice of Reason? Nah, I couldn't do it. Draco is just as evil and immature as ever, with Astoria being his partner in crime. What will they do? Will Ron's plan be ruined? Stay tuned guys… **


	8. Chapter 8: No Ruffles Or Lace

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 8**

**T****hank you all for reviewing! You're dears :P **

As soon as Hermione and Ginny had parted ways, around teatime, Ginny had shot back to The Burrow and told Ron that all was prepared; Mr Pilliwickle had got hold of the ring that he wanted in the right size, and that it was all packaged up ready for collection the next day.

"Was Hermione suspicious at all? In any way? She wasn't? Are you sure? How did you do it then?" Ron had pestered her from the moment she had walked through the door.

"Too many questions Ron- back off and let me greet my gorgeous husband." Ginny strode past Ron and gave Harry a kiss, before turning to Ron and saying, "No, no, yes, yes and I'll tell you in a minute."

"Huh?"

Ginny growled slightly before collapsing in a chair and proceeding to tell them the story of the afternoon.

Ron smiled and thanked his sister before hugging her. "And you're sure she-"

"YES!"

...

It was now Saturday- the day before the Ball. The house-elves of Malfoy Manor were busy cleaning and decorating the house. Banisters were bedecked with magical regalia; mirrors shone brighter than ever; the floor was so clean you could eat your meal off it; and the hall itself was a thing of beauty.

Twelve crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling; each containing twelve different types of jewel. The floor, which was black and white checked (like a chess board) was polished to a tee, and the tables and place cards were all set out, ready for tomorrow's festivities.

Draco and Astoria walked arm in arm around the hall, summoning house-elves to fix all the final, tiny imperfections that only their shrewd eyes could spot.

Astoria was just admiring her engagement ring when a thought struck her and she stopped dead. She clutched Draco's arm.

"Draco! Where's the guest list?"

Draco sighed and pulled out his wand. "Accio guest list," he said lazily, and sure enough, the piece of parchment came soaring in to his hands. Handing it to his fiancée, he enquired, "Are you going to tell me why?"

"Hush! In a minute," muttered Astoria, her piercing eyes quickly scanning the document. A minute later, she exclaimed, "Aha!" making Draco jump.

"What? What is it?"

"I knew it!" she claimed triumphantly. "Guess who's attending?"

"Oh, come on, you're going to have to give me a clue, there are over seven hundred names on that thing," said Draco sarcastically.

Astoria gave him a mock glare before reading out, "Ronald Weasley attending with Hermione-"

"-Granger," finished Draco. "Yeah, so?"

"Don't you get it?"

Draco frowned. "Nope. Care to explain?"

"Gladly. Do you not remember the other day, when we saw the Weasleys and that Loony Lovegood? In Pilliwickle's?"

Draco nodded slowly, but the frown was still there. Astoria gave a sigh of exasperation. "By my calculations, Weasley and Granger have been dating for around five or six years. And, just before the ball, we happen to see Weasley with Weasley and Lovegood in a jewellery store? Looking at _engagement rings_?" Here she waggled her own in Draco's face.

A look of sudden realisation dawned on Draco's face. "Oh, so you think Weasley's going to propose to Granger _here_? Tomorrow night?"

Astoria nodded slowly and sarcastically. "_Now _he gets it."

Suddenly Draco smirked. Looking at his future wife, he said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Oh, yes. Tomorrow evening just keeps getting better, doesn't it, love?"

And grinning evilly, the two of them continued their rounds of the house.

...

"Harry, do I _have _to?" whined Ron.

"For the millionth time, _yes_," replied Harry exasperatedly. "Now, into the fire with you.

Leaky Cauldron, here we come." And with a final tug on Ron's arm, they both

disappeared into the green flames.

...

Brushing off the soot, Ron and Harry stepped into the crowded pub. There were plenty of

people around, as it was the day before the Malfoy Ball, and people were buying their final purchases before the big event.

"I think I'll have a Butter Beer before we go," said Ron quickly, and headed towards the bar.

"_Not_ so fast," said Harry, grabbing his friends arm and bringing him to an abrupt halt. "Let's get this over and done with- _then _you can have a drink." And with that, Ron resigned himself to his fate, and both stepped out into the sunshine.

…

"Good morning, how may I help you, gentlemen?" asked the stern Madam Malkin.

"Yes, err, where are the dress robes?" asked Harry, with his hand on a squirming Ron.

"Right this way," said Madam Malkin, coming from behind her desk and leading through a pair of dark curtains to the men's department.

By this time Ron was a very pale shade, and with wide eyes was murmuring, "No, no, no, no…"

Harry ignored him and continued to drag him through the doorway, where the shop owner stood waiting for them.

"Any particular type of dress robe?" she queried. "We have the more traditional kind over here," she continued, pointing to a rack of the most _hideous _dress robes either of the guys had ever seen.

"Uhh, no, no, definitely not," said Harry, with a worried glance at Ron. "Have you got anything more… modern?"

"Like the traditional black, you mean?" asked the hawk-nosed lady.

"Yes! Perfect," replied Harry, and dragged his woebegone best friend to where Madam Malkin was pointing.

Here lay the most sensible, plain, and ordinary of dress robes; even Ron cheered up slightly when he saw them.

"Sizes?" Ron took a scrap of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. Madam Malkin gave it a quick scan and walked through a few rows until she was out of sight.

Harry squeezed Ron's shoulders. "See? These aren't so bad, are they? Remember, it doesn't have to be a repeat of the Yule Ball, does it? You'll look… great, in these," reassured Harry, trying to think of a describing word that would encourage his friend without sounding weird coming from him.

Suddenly, Madam Malkin came back into view. "We have several in your size," she said. "Any requirements?"

Harry walked over and whispered in her ear. "No ruffles or lace; they upset him," he said, with a quick nod in Ron's direction.

"No ruffles or lace- of course," the lady replied, and she walked off to where the correct dress robes were.

…

Two hours later, and after a few tears (and not just from Ron), both men emerged from the shop- Ron holding a box containing his brand new dress robes; a slightly less pale, and more cheerful Ron.

"Can I have my Butter Beer now?"

"Yeah; I think you deserve it, mate."

And with that, the two friends sauntered back to The Leaky Cauldron.

**Tell me what you think?**


	9. Chapter 9: A Very Long Evening

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 9**

Hermione took one final look at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. She was ready. Her dress was free of creases and dirt, her hair was elegantly done in a twisted knot on top of her head, and what little make up she wore complimented her. She quickly checked her small clutch back before disapparating away to Malfoy Manor.

...

Ron and Harry had just put the finishing touches on their dress robes when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," called Harry.

The door swung open, and there stood Ginny, in her emerald green ball gown. Her hair hung in waves down her back. Harry just stood there, gobsmacked. Ron felt rather embarrassed and awkward, actually.

Eventually, he broke the silence by clearing his throat.

"You look, err, nice," he said. "I've just got to go the bathroom, excuse me," and with that, he gently squeezed past Ginny and legged it down the stairs.

Ginny blushed slightly and continued to look at Harry. "Well... what do you think?"

"I think—" started Harry, "I think—there isn't a word yet invented to describe what I think."

Ginny smiled shyly. Harry walked over and they kissed.

Downstairs they couldn't hear Ron shouting that it was time to go.

...

Hermione stood in the crowded entrance hall. Many other elegant guests swanned around her; some of the friendlier faces called out a greeting, and she nodded in response.

Truth be told, Hermione was a little nervous. She hadn't seen Ron for just over a week now, and that was too long in her opinion.

Just at that moment, she caught sight of two people she had hoped to avoid that evening. Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass walked by, arm in arm, and at first it looked as though they were going to pass her. But to Hermione's dismay, they didn't.

"Good evening, Miss Granger, you're looking well," greeted Astoria courteously.

"Thank you; I am very well," replied Hermione. "And how are you both?" It was at this point she saw Draco with a distinctly bored facial expression, and resisted rolling her eyes.

"We're very well, thank you for asking. Enjoy the party," said Astoria, with a very fake smile, and the couple continued onto the next guest.

With a quick check to make sure no one was looking, Hermione made a rude face at their retreating backs, and was just about to go looking for Ron, when she heard a voice calling her name.

"Hermione! Over here!"

Suddenly, she saw the trio, standing near to the Apparating points. It was Ginny who had called her, and she could see her waving frantically over the heads of everyone else. Hermione gave a smile of relief and walked over to join them.

She greeted Ginny with a hug. "For a second there, I thought you guys weren't coming!" she said.

Harry gave a cough and she turned her attention to him. "Harry, it's lovely to see you! Mind you, you'd better not try to keep me at work again too soon, or it'll be slugs for dinner," she warned, though there was a twinkle in her eye that said she was definitely joking.

"And what about me?"

Hermione turned her attentions to a smiling Ron.

"Harry, why don't you come and get some punch?" asked Ginny rather loudly.

"But I want to stay and talk to—"

"_No_— you don't," replied Ginny forcefully, and dragged Harry over to where they were serving the drinks.

Ron gave her a look that said "thank you" before turning back to his girlfriend.

"Ron..." she began.

"Yes?"

"Where have you been?" she scolded, and punched his arm. "I haven't seen you in ages, and bar that one letter you sent me, I haven't heard from you! What have you been doing?"

"I—I've been, uh, busy," stuttered Ron. He hadn't expected this kind of reception. And he _had_ been busy. Thinking.

Hermione suddenly lost her scowl and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have got mad at you. It's just been a bit stressful at work, and well... I've missed you."

"Yeah?" said Ron, as he pulled Hermione in for a hug. "Well I've missed you too. And besides," he continued, pushing her away so he could look at her, "you look positively _stunning_. I could not have asked for a more beautiful girlfriend."

Hermione blushed and gave Ron a kiss, causing him to go a bit red too. "And I could not have asked for a more compliment-giving boyfriend," she replied.

At this, Ron straightened himself up, and offered Hermione the crook of his arm. "Care to join me for punch, milady?" he enquired in a posh voice.

Taking his arm, Hermione replied equally as posh, "But of course, sir. Lead the way." And giggling like two love-struck teenagers, they made their way over to the punch.

Just a little way off from the punch stood the villainous Miss Greengrass, and her equally villainous fiancé. "Ready to have fun?" grinned the former.

"After you, dear," replied the latter.

"Here, let me," said Ron, as he leaned across the table to the punch bowl, an empty glass in his other hand. He filled it up, and handed the one to Hermione, whilst filling up a second for himself. "To us," he said, raising his glass in a toast.

Hermione smiled. "To us," she repeated.

"Three, two, one..." whispered Astoria.

There was a _snap!_and Hermione's champagne glass turned to fine dust, causing the red-yellow liquid to cascade over her dress. There was only a small amount, but it made a fine mess of her outfit. In a trice, Ron had whipped out his wand and muttered a cleaning spell—one his mum had made him learn. It cleared up most of the mess, but there was still a faint, but visible stain left on the gown.

Hermione gazed miserably at it.

"Oh, come on Hermione, it's not that bad," said Ron reassuringly. "It was... an accident. I'm sure whatever happened wasn't deliberate." At this, Hermione's head snapped up, and she turned to look in the far corner, where their hosts were trying to stifle giggles into silk handkerchiefs.

"No—of course not," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Come on, let's just enjoy the evening. Ah, a dance— come and dance, Hermione," said Ron, and he lead her gently to the dance floor where a band had struck up a waltz. As they held each other close, two different thoughts were going through each other's heads.

Ron was starting to feel nerves claw at his stomach. He had gone through what he was going to say until Harry had tired of it and had thrown a shoe at him. But he hadn't expected this to happen- he just hoped Hermione would be in a mood to accept him.

Hermione was partly upset, but was angrier at the fact that she was sure that the hosts were deliberately setting out to destroy the evening for her. She narrowed her eyes. Retaliation was above her; she would not rise to it. But she had a feeling this was going to be a _very_long evening...


	10. Chapter 10: Will You Marry Me?

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 10**

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, etc! I love you ALL! Have fun :D**

The music finished and the dancing couples applauded. Ron and Hermione went over to join Harry and Ginny, who were seated at pure white metal tables. Ginny gave a slight frown when she saw the stain on Hermione's dress, but said nothing. She knew how nervous Ron must be, and therefore turned her attentions to other things.

The couples chatted pleasantly for several minutes—though Hermione missed how often Ron was pulling at his collar.

Suddenly, both Harry and Ginny were staring with horror at Hermione: a large, black, hairy tarantula was creeping its way over her bare shoulder.

"Hermione—don't—move," said Harry in a deathly hush.

"What? Why?"

She then turned her gaze to where Harry seemed to be looking, and went white with shock. Tarantulas were her worst nightmare! Spiders she could deal with, but tarantulas? No way. So she screamed.

Everyone looked up from what they were doing. The musicians stopped playing; the dancers stopped dancing; the house elves stopped serving.

"Get it off me! _Get it off me_!" shrieked a genuinely frightened Hermione.

This time, it was Ginny to the rescue. With a quick mutter, the big, hairy beast was gone, but by now, Hermione had been reduced to a pale, trembling wreck. She sat weakly in her chair, and tried to prevent the tears that were threatening to spill over. Ron pulled her close and just held her, whispering encouragement and comfort. Harry stood there, quite shocked, but instantly suspicious. Tarantulas don't just appear from the middle of nowhere: fact.

Ginny had just locked down her two prime suspects: the blond-haired host and his sidekick—or was it the other way around? She saw them tryingto look as shocked as everyone else, but they were failing miserably. She and Harry knew they'd have to keep their eyes on them. She whispered her fears to Harry, who nodded his head in agreement.

Meanwhile, Hermione had managed to regain some of her original composure and colour, and had calmed down enough to accompany Ginny to the bathroom to recompose herself.

"You do know who's behind this, don't you?" stated Ginny as Hermione checked herself in the mirror.

"I have my suspicions," she replied sullenly.

"It's those _prats _who call themselves the 'Upper Class'," sneered Ginny. "Though why they would do such things is beyond me," she added as an afterthought. "I mean, why tonight? And it being such an important night for you—"

Ginny stopped talking and froze in horror as her best friend turned to look quizzically at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Um, uh," stammered Ginny. "I mean, what with you—uh, I mean, it's the first grand night out with you in ages, and you, uh, haven't seen Ron in such a long time too—it's a night for you to catch up," she finished, almost with a sigh of relief.

"Oh... okay," said Hermione, but she narrowed her eyes slightly in suspicion.

"Anyway," Ginny hurried on, "Harry and I are going to keep an eye on them for you. It still beats me why they would do this, though..."

Hermione smacked a hand to her forehead. "Fortesque's!" she cried. "The day we bought our dresses—Astoria _did _overhear!" She put her head in her hands. "It'll be a miracle if I get out of here alive tonight," she moaned.

Ginny hugged her. "Don't be so pessimistic, Hermione. What with me and Harry keeping a look out, you and Ron can get on with your special evening in peace."

Hermione looked up again.

_Dammitdammitdammitdammit... _thought Ginny.

"Uh, your 'catching up night', of course!" she gushed.

"Whatever."

With everything finished and out of the way, the two women left the bathroom and re-entered the mêlée. They quickly found their respective partners.

Whilst Ginny and Hermione had been away, Harry transferred his wife's thoughts to a worried looking Ron.

"I say you propose to her ASAP," whispered Harry. "That way, if they try anything else, she'll be too happy to care."

"Fair point, well made," agreed Ron. "As soon as they come back, I'll get her a drink and then take her out onto the veranda."

"Good plan," said Harry, giving his friend a brief punch on the shoulder.

At this point their other halves joined them, and Ron led Hermione over to the punch bowl. After pouring her a glass, Ron casually suggested they take a stroll out onto the veranda. Hermione agreed, and so they made their way through the throng to the cool outside.

Together they stood, looking out over onto the dark gardens below. Hermione sighed with happiness.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she murmured.

"Yeah, it is," Ron concurred. But he wasn't looking at the view.

Suddenly he flinched back. It was only a small flinch, but it caused Hermione to look around.

"What's the matter?" she enquired.

"N-nothing," Ron stuttered, looking out across at the view.

Hermione giggled. "Is there something wrong with my face?" she asked jokingly. Then she looked down at her hands and gasped. They were covered in red spots. Reaching into her clutch, she grabbed her compact mirror and looked. Her face, too, was covered with the same red spots.

"Oh, that is it!" she cried, hot tears spilling over. "I have had it—I give in, I'm going home! Goodnight, Ron." And she started to storm off.

Ron was full of sympathy for Hermione, but he couldn't let the Malfoys win; besides, he didn't think his nerves could stand waiting any longer.

"Hermione, wait!" When she wouldn't, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

She swung round and glared at him. "What, Ron? What is it? I have been humiliated, embarrassed, and I want to go home. Nothing you can do can make it better. So goodnight."

She turned to leave.

Ron knew it was now or never.

"Will you marry me?"

**A/N: Cliff hanger! *Dramatic music***


	11. Chapter 11: Something Shiny

**The Proposal**

**Chapter 11 **

**A/N The last chapter! Thank you to everyone who's read the story- keep reviewing though- I might get round to revamping some of the chapters at some point, so constructive criticism is welcome :) And thank you to everyone who's reviewed- especially the repeat reviewers! Anyway, on with the story... **

_She turned to leave. Ron knew it was now or never._

"_Will you marry me?"_

Hermione stopped abruptly and stood still. Ron stood there. Adrenaline rushed through his veins—he had done it. But would she...?

Slowly, Hermione turned to face her anxious boyfriend. Her eyes had filled with more tears, but they weren't the tears of embarrassment that had graced the scene a few moments ago. They were tears of surprise, but more importantly, of happiness. Slowly, she smiled at Ron.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, and she walked back to him and hugged him. Inwardly, Ron sighed with relief, and they stood together for a long time. But neither of them noticed nor cared. It was a moment of pure bliss and happiness; even the dreadful events of the evening were briefly wiped from Hermione's memory.

Eventually they drew away, but Hermione's arms were still wrapped around Ron's shoulders as she looked into his eyes.

"I love you, Ron," she whispered, "and I always will." And she kissed him. Once again, they took their time. It was a slow, deep kiss—the kind you remember on rainy days when you're by yourself.

When they eventually broke apart, Ron coughed a little so as to clear his throat, and then in a slightly hoarse voice, said, "Here. I brought this for you."

He put a hand inside his dress robe pocket and pulled out a small box; he opened it and there, sparkling in all its glory, sat the ring. Hermione gasped, and a few more tears made their escape.

Fumbling slightly, Ron took the ring out of its box. He got down on one knee. "May as well do this properly," he grinned sheepishly. Hermione giggled and stood there expectantly.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

"Of course I will, Ronald Bilius Weasley. On one condition," she added, and suddenly Ron looked worried.

"Yes?"

"That you never use my middle name again," she said with a grin, and Ron smiled back as he took her hand and slid the ring onto the correct finger. It was a perfect fit, and sat on Hermione's finger like it had meant to be there all along.

Ron stood up, and took Hermione's hands in his own. "I love you, Hermione. It might not always have been clear to me, but then again, not everything is always clear to me. I love you with all my heart, and I will do everything I can to make you happy," he said seriously, looking into her eyes.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said softly, "you already have." And with one final kiss, they were ready to return to main room, where doubtless Harry and Ginny would be waiting with anticipation.

However, as they entered the main room, they could tell things were not at all as they seemed.

The musicians were playing again, but there was a tense atmosphere. Having spotted Harry and Ginny, the now engaged couple walked over. As they got closer, they could see rather strange facial expressions being worn, and on coming even closer, they found the pair trying hard not to laugh.

Forgetting her engagement for the moment, Hermione had to ask, "What's so funny?"

Not because she was being rude, but simply because she couldn't talk for laughing, Ginny only pointed behind the couple. When they turned around, they saw, in the middle of the dancing crowd, Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.

Turning back, Hermione said, "Yeah, so?" She didn't particularly want to look at the couple who had caused her so much misery.

"Oh, just look!" said Ginny exasperatedly, and turned Hermione around so she was facing them once again. And on closer inspection, she saw what was so funny. Their dancing looked... well, a bit odd. And suddenly, Hermione started to laugh.

Draco seemed to be dancing fine one minute, but suddenly his leg would jerk wildly, and he'd either trip up, or grab onto Astoria for all he was worth. His fiancée was looking more and more annoyed by the minute.

"Draco!" she hissed. "What is the matter with you?"

Draco scowled at her. "Someone's hexed me, you—"

"Yes?" Astoria raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Finish that sentence and you will regret it_.

"Never mind. Only problem is, I don't know what I've been hit with, otherwise I'd use the counter curse."

Astoria gave a sigh of exasperation, and eventually the couple left the floor. Luckily, they missed the looks of glee and slight hysteria on four persons' faces.

"That was brilliant!" laughed Hermione, wiping her eyes, as Ron gave Harry a small clap on the back. "What did you do?"

"Oh," said Ginny, choking for air, "it was Harry's idea. Just a little joke jinx that Fred and George came up with— it'll wear off in a few hours."

"More's the pity," growled Ron, as he remembered why they'd had to resort to such measures in the first place.

As Hermione wiped her eyes one more time, Ginny caught a glint of something shiny on her finger.

"Is that...? Did you...?" she whispered, turning to Ron, who nodded and promptly turned bright red.

Ginny gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. "I'm so happy for you!" she cried, and flung her arms around Hermione, who was a little taken aback when she suddenly remembered that she was engaged.

Hermione hugged Ginny back just as hard. "Thank you!" she said.

Harry and Ron clapped each other on the back before resorting to a hug, though it was very brief. When they broke apart, the coughed and cleared their throats. This brought the women to attention and they broke apart, laughing. Both had tears in their eyes.

"So..." said Harry slowly. "Are we announcing it to the general public now, or...?"

Hermione looked at Ron. "I think the general public can wait," she said, knowing Ron would agree with her. "Besides, I've had enough attention for tonight— and not the right kind," she added.

"Do you want to go home then?" her fiancé asked.

"No— I want to dance," she replied with a smile, and holding hands, the two of them walked across the floor to an empty space and danced.

Harry and Ginny watched the pair for a while before deciding to join the other couple and dance.

During a particularly slow dance, Ron whispered, "So, will I have to wear dress robes for the wedding?"

Hermione leaned back to look at Ron. "Hmmm. Yep. And they will have to be in maroon, with the Weasley crest on one side..."

Ron was now looking worried. "Oh don't be daft, Ronald," said Hermione. "I wouldn't do that to you! You'd look much better in the ones you wore for the Yule Ball. I just _love_ the smell of your Aunt Tessie..."

By now, Ron knew she was joking and swatted her playfully on the shoulder. "All right, you can stop that now," he grinned.

"Who said I was joking?" The grin vanished.

And suddenly, the phrase _Slugs-__á__ -la-Hermione_ sprung to mind, and as he held Hermione close, he smiled a small secret smile and thought, _What am I letting myself in for_?

**The End.**

**A/N Hope you liked it guys! Please keep reviewing, makes my day :D If you like my work then check out Rescue Me—my version of what would have happened if Hermione had returned to Hogwarts instead of going with Harry and Ron to search for Horcurxes. (Warning: may contain a **_**teeny weeny **_**bit of Dramione :P) **

**milkshake x **


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